


Peace Keepers

by purple_bookcover



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: M/M, soft boys can fuck too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 20:36:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21434338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_bookcover/pseuds/purple_bookcover
Summary: Ashe and Ignatz meet on opposite sides of the war, but neither is interested in fighting it out.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Ignatz Victor
Comments: 22
Kudos: 80
Collections: Ignatz Week 2019





	Peace Keepers

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Ignatz Week! Prompt: Battle.
> 
> So, I intentionally set myself a list of HARD MODE challenges with this piece:
> 
> 1\. Has to have the two softest boys: Ashe and Ignatz.  
2\. Has to be the "battle" prompt.  
3\. They have to fuck.  
4\. I can't cheat by telling it all through Ashe's perspective. 
> 
> It was legitimately very challenging and I think I could spend another week on it, but the deadline is today. I'm not completely satisfied with it, but I'm glad I made the attempt.

Ashe crept through the forest, bow in hand. The clustered trunks would impede him if an enemy appeared, but he was the only member of Dimitri's army who'd once been a thief. Thus, when it was time for someone to sneak behind enemy lines and steal a key, it was up to Ashe. 

He gripped his mini bow. Despite being designed for close-range, Ashe suspected the weapon would be little help in such close quarters. The trees grouped so tightly they squeezed out the mid-day sun, allowing only a trickle of light. Ashe picked through soft moss and a tangle of branches and underbrush. As he stepped along, the sounds of the battle he'd left behind faded.

It was a relief, he had to admit. He lacked Annette and Mercedes' magical talent. He hadn't been bred for war like Felix. He didn't have Dimitri's rage or Dedue's raw power. He didn't posses Ingrid's calm or Sylvain's bravado. He was just an orphan from the slums who'd dreamed of becoming a knight and helping people. 

Who were they helping now? 

Ashe shook his head, trying to shrug off the thoughts. Sneaking through enemy territory wasn't the time for doubts. 

"Halt!"

Too late. He froze. A figure materialized between the trees. They leveled a bow at him, holding an arrow taut against the string. 

Ashe straightened, putting up his hands in a placating gesture. 

"Who are you?" a timid voice asked. "What are you doing here?"

Ashe squinted through the dark of the forest. "Ignatz?"

#

Ignatz lowered his bow.

"Ashe?"

He stepped toward the figure sneaking through the trees. Ashe looked older and more worn for the five years that had passed since they'd last seen each other. 

"Please don't shoot," Ashe said.

Ignatz stuttered to a halt, remembering the weapon in his hands. He raised his bow. Clearly, Ashe was not on some mission of peace. "What are you doing here? Are there more?" He scanned the forest, searching for movement. 

"It's just me," Ashe said. "They... they sent me for the key."

Ignatz's eyes widened. "The drawbridge."

Ashe nodded miserably.

"But then they'll be in the city," Ignatz said. "They'll slaughter us."

Ashe did not respond this time. 

Ignatz's arms shook from holding his bow taut. He eased the tension, but only a fraction. Ashe, Dimitri, so many of his former classmates – they'd come here to kill him and the rest of Claude's army. It was like they'd never spent all those years growing up together, learning together, going to dances, getting in trouble, playing pranks, having crushes, being _kids_ . It was all gone, drowned under the tides of war. Now, they were just enemies on opposing sides. 

So why wasn't Ashe striking while he hesitated? 

Instead, Ashe bent down, setting his bow on the ground, displaying empty hands to Ignatz. 

"I don't want to hurt you," Ashe said.

"You have to," Ignatz said. "It's your job."

"I know. Even so." 

"I can't let you leave here," Ignatz said.

"I know," Ashe said. 

"Then why won't you fight? I have to kill you for coming here. Why don't you defend yourself?"

Ashe looked at the ground, shaking his head. "I can't do it." He spoke so softly Ignatz almost didn't hear him. When he looked back up, his large, green eyes glistened. "I thought I wanted to be a knight. I thought I wanted--" he waved "--this."

"Then..."

"I wanted to help," Ashe said. "How does slaughtering my friends help? How does any of this help anyone?" He almost sounded angry, an unusual emotion in the obstinately optimistic man. 

"I don't know," Ignatz said. "Claude says we just have to hold out and we might be able to avoid the worst of the war. But half the time holding out means..."

Ashe nodded, relieving Ignatz from finishing the thought. 

"Go ahead," Ashe said. He spread his arms wide. "I'm not going to fight. Go ahead and do it." 

Ignatz paused. The bow and arrow in his hands suddenly felt far heavier than they should. He stepped toward Ashe, lining up a point blank shot at his throat. 

And hesitated. 

It would be awful. With the trees so thick around them, the best death he could give Ashe was several long, horrible minutes of choking on his own blood with an arrow through his neck. He'd seen it before; he'd inflicted it on other soldiers. Enemies, sure. But they looked awfully human as they died. 

He threw his bow and arrow to the ground. 

Ashe lowered his arms. 

"I won't," Ignatz said. 

"I have to get that key," Ashe said.

"Please don't," Ignatz said.

"I have to," Ashe said. "If I go back without it, I'll let them all down." 

They stared at each other, trapped in a stalemate. Ashe didn't reach for his weapons, but Ignatz saw the knife at his hip. He flinched when Ashe stepped closer, easily within striking distance. They were both trained for this, trained for killing, trained to complete the mission no matter what. 

So why couldn't Ignatz move? Why couldn't he save the city and his friends by eliminating the threat standing right in front of him? Why wasn't he dead on Ashe's knife? 

A cloud passed before Ashe's face, shading it with anger and sadness. His mouth twisted. His eyebrows curled. That horrible expression was the last thing Ignatz saw before Ashe finally sprang. 

A fist struck Ignatz's face, sending him back. He reeled, but caught himself against a tree, recovering before Ashe could hit him again. Ignatz ducked below a second blow, then charged forward, catching Ashe around the middle and driving them both to the ground, where they grappled in a tangle of limbs, underbrush jabbing at their backs. 

Ashe managed to get Ignatz on his back and pin his arms to the ground, sitting on his legs. Ashe was only slightly larger than him, but it was enough to tip the scuffle in his favor. 

But, again, he paused. 

Ashe panted over him. Ignatz struggled to catch his own breath. He jerked, but Ashe kept his arms pinned firmly to the ground. Ashe's time at the academy had been purely, obsessively focused on improvement and it showed. He was easily stronger than Ignatz now. 

Ashe peered down at Ignatz, who could not mask his fear. He'd let his enemy live and now it very well may cost him and his friends their lives. He closed his eyes, hoping Ashe would at least make it quick. 

But it wasn't the cold jab of a knife he felt. Rather, he was met with a soft flutter of lips.

Ignatz's eyes shot open and he found Ashe's face near, his mouth still pressed lightly against Ignatz's. Silver hair tickled Ignatz's forehead. 

Ashe pulled away, his cheeks flushed, but did not go far. 

"I'm sorry," he said. 

Ignatz had to remember to breathe again before he could speak. "It's OK." 

"We're enemies." 

Ignatz got his wrist loose and stroked Ashe's freckled cheek. "So?"

Ashe paused as though contemplating this question. And why shouldn't he ponder? They _were_ enemies. They were meant to kill each other. But that's not what Ignatz wanted just then, and it didn't seem to be what Ashe wanted either. 

Ignatz got his other wrist free to push himself up on one arm as he pulled Ashe down to his mouth. Ashe returned the kiss hungrily, his tongue jabbing into Ignatz's mouth. It was an odd contrast, the aggression of that kiss against the sweetness of Ashe's mouth. He tasted like mint leaves, like a cool breeze on a hot day. In all their time as students, Ignatz had never thought about this; he'd never looked twice at Ashe, except to wonder absently how difficult it would be to paint freckles. Now, as foes, they kissed out of desperation and fear and sadness and hope and Ignatz wished he'd wondered sooner.

Ignatz grabbed the front of Ashe's jacket to shove him back and get on top of him. Ashe blinked up in surprise. Ignatz hurried to seize the moment, but Ashe was quicker. He got a hold of Ignatz's shirt and tried to roll them over again. 

They grappled on the ground, enemies again, each fighting for control, grunting as they swapped places on their backs. Ashe pulled Ignatz's hair. Ignatz kicked Ashe away, but Ashe just scrambled back and tried to snatch Ignatz by his shirt again. Ignatz grabbed Ashe's wrist, twisting it in a way Raphael had once taught him. 

They paused, each clutching the other as they lay on their sides on the ground, their hair and clothes askew. 

Ignatz loosened his hold and felt Ashe doing the same. This time, when he reached for the other archer, he did so gently, cautiously. His hands seemed to move of their own volition, loosening the highest button on Ashe's jacket. Ignatz paused, but Ashe just watched him, offering little as Ignatz tried the next button and the next, loosening his heavy jacket all the way down, until he could get his hands inside it and start at the high-necked tunic beneath. With one final button, the neck of the tunic fell open, revealing the trail of freckles that trickled down Ashe's neck and disappeared into his shirt. 

It was true that Ignatz hadn't really taken much notice of Ashe when they were students. But the one time he had wondered about his freckles, he hadn't stopped at Ashe's face. He'd dreamed of following the trail of freckles lower and lower and woken startled and confused. 

Never had he thought that dream would manifest in reality, especially not like this. But now that the path was clear, he couldn't help following it. Ignatz sat up, encouraging Ashe to lie on his back while Ignatz's hand trailed down his neck and dipped into the tantalizing hollow of Ashe's neck. He tested the path with his lips next, trying to kiss each and every freckle along his way. 

He needed more. Ignatz tested the bottom of Ashe's tunic, waiting for a response. Ashe gave him a little nod and Ignatz pushed the shirt up, revealing a toned torso covered in delicate little spots. Ignatz set to work exploring them. Ashe writhed under him, his breaths getting heavier as Ignatz kissed and sucked at the freckles. 

When he looked back up, Ashe was flushed, chewing on his own finger, his eyes pleading. That was the look that finally broke him, crushing any last reluctance he may have felt. He lunged for Ashe's mouth. Ashe gripped his hair, pulling him in deeper. Ignatz felt Ashe against him when the other man planted a foot and rolled his hips up. Goddess, they were really doing this, weren't they? 

It was far too late for regrets, though. Ashe flipped them abruptly, his hand going right to Ignatz's crotch once he had him on his back again. A cry of surprise escaped and Ashe put his hand over Ignatz's mouth. His other hand grew bolder, however, squirming into Ignatz's baggy trousers and rubbing over his cock. Ignatz squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to let out all the desperate noises collecting in his throat. 

Ashe leaned close, speaking at his ear. "Can you stay quiet?"

Ignatz nodded, not daring to speak. 

Ashe withdrew, sliding down his body. Then Ignatz felt Ashe's mouth replace his hand. 

Ignatz had to slap his own hands over his mouth as Ashe worked down his cock. He was sure and swift, his mild manners entirely forgotten as he ran his lips up and down Ignatz. Ashe teased with his tongue, making Ignatz shudder head to toe. Ignatz covered his mouth with both hands now, trying to hold in the gasps and moans shivering through his body. 

Ashe added a hand and Ignatz could not help the squeak that squeezed between his fingers. It was all happening so quickly. He couldn't recall the last time anyone had touched him in this way, not with war constantly on their minds. And for it to be an enemy, of all people.

_So?_ he heard himself ask again. 

At the moment, he had no answer. Ashe was giving him no reprieve. He didn't have even a moment to catch his breath before Ashe's mouth was doing something new and exhilarating. He felt like he might go mad if Ashe didn't release him soon, but he couldn't even find the breath to voice that plea. 

Ashe stopped, leaving him aching. In a swift, desperate motion, he pulled Ignatz up, coaxing him onto his hands and knees. Ignatz heard the shuffle of clothing, then felt his own pre-cum smeared onto his thighs. He had only an instant to wonder before Ashe pushed his cock between the slick thighs, his hand reaching around to grip Ignatz's cock. 

"OK?" Ashe said. Ignatz could hear the strain in his voice as he waited for confirmation. 

Ignatz just nodded, pushing back against Ashe as best as he could with the man's hand on his cock. Ashe took the signal, rubbing his cock between Ignatz's thighs as he resumed stroking him. 

Ignatz hardly had time to wonder at the strangeness of the whole thing. Ashe's hand was as confident as his mouth and quickly brought Ignatz back up to stand quivering at the edge of a precipice. As Ashe pushed between his thighs, their cocks rubbed together, sending lighting bolts up Ignatz's spine. 

"I..." Ignatz gasped. But he had no idea how to finish that statement. _I'm going to drown? I'm going to implode? I'm not even sure if this is real?_

"I know," Ashe said. 

His hand worked faster and this time the cry rang out uninhibited. Neither of them cared anymore. Let both armies find them, but first they would have this moment, loud and real and wrong. 

Ashe drew the orgasm out of him in a long, smooth stroke. It caught Ignatz by surprise, seeming to ricochet through his body before exploding out. He clutched at the grass beneath him, his strong archer's arms suddenly weak and shaking. Ashe kept holding him, gripping his hip as he thrust a few more times to find his own release. 

Then they were left in the awful quiet of what they'd just done, half-undressed, cum on the grass, their panting the only sound in the still forest separating their armies. 

"I..." Ashe started. 

That's when they heard footsteps. They froze, still pressed against each other, straining their ears. A branch snapped under a booted foot. 

"Go," Ashe said. 

They scrambled into their clothes, struggling with buttons and belts. 

"Ashe," a voice called through the forest. "Ashe!" 

"Sylvain," Ashe whispered. "Hurry, go. They're from my side." 

"Shut up," a second voice said. Felix. Ignatz went cold. The swordsman from Fraldarius wouldn't wait for an explanation if he found an enemy. 

"Ashe," Sylvain called again.

"Shut up," Felix snapped. 

"We have to find him. He could be hurt."

"We're not going to find him if you call half of Claude's army over to us, idiot." 

Ashe and Ignatz managed to get the last of their clothing and gear back in order, then Ashe turned to flee. Ignatz caught him by the wrist before he could go. 

"Thank you," he said. "And I'm sorry... Sorry that it has to be like this."

Ashe smiled faintly, gripping Ignatz's hand in both of his. "I'm sorry, too."

"Survive," Ignatz said. "So we don't need to be enemies ever again."

"You too." 

They lingered a moment, grasping each other's hands, holding onto this brief space where they were friends rather than foes. 

Then another branch cracked and Ashe shoved Ignatz away. "Hurry," he said.

Ignatz nodded, burning the image of Ashe's freckled face into his memory before turning to run. As he fled through the forest, moving as quietly and quickly as he could, he heard voices gather behind him.

"Ashe, thank the goddess," Sylvain said. 

"What happened?" Felix, sharp and suspicious. "Why are you flushed? Are you well?"

"I got ambushed," Ashe said. "They hit me in the back of the head."

"Where?" Felix said, the killing intent in his voice sending shivers through Ignatz.

"They're gone. I think you scared them off," Ashe said.

"Just in time then," Sylvain said. 

"Just in time," Ashe agreed.

**Author's Note:**

> Soft boys can fight-fuck too. Soft boy rights. 
> 
> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/purplebookcover).
> 
> I respond to every comment. Thank you, friends!


End file.
